


my body leans on only you

by theprincessed



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Love at First Sight, M/M, Personification of Death, Romance, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is in One Direction with Niall, Liam and Zayn. One day he meets Harry, a law student, by chance and it scares him how their instant connection feels so right. However, for Harry, there's still a big twist that's yet to come...</p><p>AKA the one where Louis is famous, Harry is not and love is eventually found at the right time, the right place and with the right person. (<i>Meet Joe Black</i> AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	my body leans on only you

**Author's Note:**

> This is _so_ self-indulgent and took way longer than it should have. As I said in the summary, it's very very very loosely based on just the love story in the film _Meet Joe Black_. Don't spoil yourself if you haven't seen it, read my fic first and then go watch it because I do recommend the full thing lol.
> 
> I want to especially disclaim that whilst I borrow the names of Louis' family, I am not casting aspersions on them. They and their relationships to Louis in this are merely a fictional (sub)plot device. Also, although the 'lightning' speech has been modified by me, I do not own the idea of it or anything else depicted in line with the film. All I do own is my original character, even if he is a total jerk.
> 
> Lastly, thank you so much to anyone who reads this. After the incredible, unexpected response to my 'throwback' fic, I really hope that you enjoy this brand new offering.

It is said through myth and time that Death comes in many guises.

Death is frightening, Death is wings and fire and multiple faces.

Death is peaceful, Death is warm breeze and sunshine and the brightest angel.

It’s hard to tell which until you’ve seen it.

Perhaps...

Death could be anyone.

 

\--

 

They meet on a balmy Friday morning as Louis sits down in the back of what must be the tiniest café in the _world_ , never mind London. At least it seems that way because no one ever follows him here.

He and the boys are in the city for a couple of weeks break before flying off to resume their tour and it’s one of Louis’ favourite things to come to this place before his brain is barely functioning to gorge on the biggest, greasiest fry up known to mankind. Mark, their group personal trainer, would probably string him up by his balls if he caught wind of such a calorific catastrophe but luckily Louis has a stretch of about a week on his side. Plenty of time to eat a bone-dry salad to compensate.

His time in the corner is blissfully quiet, only punctuated by food and kitchen sounds that are easy to drown out with idle thoughts, until the door opens and the sudden whoosh of air and noise blows in a cackle of a laugh. The short nature makes Louis’ head snap up from playing around with his phone to see the person it belongs to, a young man with one hand over his mouth for a second to catch his amusement a beat too late and the other clutching his mobile to his ear.

“I know, I know – ” Louis hears, as he nods along and strides over to the little queue by the till, “ – but your threats only make me laugh because you’re _brilliant_. You shouldn’t forget that, okay? I’m sorry he made you forget that.”

Louis tries to pull his tired eyes away, he honestly does, but sue him he’s intrigued. Besides, the young man doesn’t seem to have any qualms about eavesdropping because he is talking pretty unabashed. He’s not being loud and obnoxious as such, but his deep, impassioned voice carries in the tiny café. Louis would hazard a guess that he cares immensely for whoever is on the other end of the line.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous too; leggy and broad-shouldered in a dark grey suit and white shirt. His slightly unruly, curly hair is about the only thing that’s at odds with such a crisp image, although somehow that makes him approachable with an air of being very much at home in his own skin. He’s definitely young too; his profile clean-shaven and his posture easy like someone with the enthusiasm of just starting out.

Quickly, he turns his head as he’s one person before placing his order, as if checking where he could sit if he wanted to and his gaze snags on Louis for a millisecond. It’s the push that Louis needs to quit staring, looking down sharply into his lap to realise with an inward groan that he’s lost all his Candy Crush lives _again_.

“I wish I could come see you, babe,” the young man clucks soothingly, dropping his voice to something more intimate. A twinge of sympathy flashes brightly in Louis’ chest, connecting with memories of phone calls to his sisters as they’ve sat thousands of miles apart. “I’m starting this morning but I could – okay, okay, I won’t, I promise. I promise!” he giggles, actually _giggles_ , and Louis gives up completely on not listening because he’s not hiding a thing and he’s just so sweet. “I love you so much – yeah – tell them I said hi – you’re so strong, please remember that. He doesn’t deserve you – mmhm, yup – love you lots, bye.”

With a forlorn little sigh, he slides his long limbs into a seat by the counter, apparently choosing to have his breakfast on a high chair and small space rather than take one of the last empty booths for himself. Somehow it makes Louis feel a tad ridiculous for sitting on his own on seats made for four and his face is hot as the waitress plonks down his fry up and he manages to utter a croaky “cheers,” as she walks away.

He eats far quicker than he normally would and the time seems to tick by just as fast if his text messages are anything to go by, Liam already checking to see how he is and Niall begging him to go to a Derby game on the last day of their break, but he keeps throwing furtive glances to the man in the chair in front of him, his hips narrow and knees pressed primly together. Curiosity has always been one of Louis’ greatest assets and biggest flaws, but a stranger is probably a no-go area, no matter how pretty he is, so Louis tries to calm himself and resigns to paying and then going back to his house to play FIFA in his boxers for the rest of the day, probably.

Except.

“Hi.”

Louis blinks, surprised. “Er, hi.”

“I saw you looking over earlier. Sorry if I was talking loudly.” he says but he grins and leans in like it’s a secret that Louis heard him and not the several other customers dotted nearby as well. “I get a bit carried away with my pep talks sometimes.”

“No worries,” Louis shrugs, “I’m sure your ‘babe’ appreciated it and that’s what matters, I guess. Or so I’ve been told.”

“It’s my big sister,” he sighs again and Louis can feel his eyebrows shoot up, lucky that the guy is staring at his half finished plate, “Boyfriend troubles. I know she can deal with him perfectly fine by herself, but I’m her brother y’know? Can’t help it. I just want her to be happy, not dicked around by pricks like him.”

It’s a little heavy and over-sharing between two strangers but he looks genuinely crestfallen with his big green eyes and furrowed brow. It’s so endearing and Louis finds his hand placed on his shoulder before he can stop himself, his other hand pocketing his change from his order.  “I’m a brother too, so I definitely know what you mean.”

“Oh yeah? To how many?”

“Four younger sisters.”

He whistles lowly, eyes wide. “Shit, you must think I’m such an amateur.”

“No!” Louis smiles, giving him a squeeze before he drops his hand into his jacket pocket, “The opposite, actually. I’ve not had the pleasure of experiencing arsehole boyfriends with them yet and I’m dreading the day I will. I want them to stay tiny and cute and innocent forever.”

A hand finally stretches out towards him. “I should’ve said this before, but I kind of got distracted by everything. I’m Harry. And you’re Louis from One Direction.” Louis closes his mouth as Harry raises his – wow, massive – hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged, I know who you are.”

Louis snorts, “Who doesn’t,” then quickly checks himself, scratching at his neck. “Um, that was a joke and not a very good one. I’m not that – I don’t think – ”

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, grinning. “You make a very valid point. Your face is everywhere. But it’s cool. It’s a nice face.” Louis coughs out a single huff of a laugh, his brain still sluggish and knocked for six by such bold flirting. He’s lost for words in the precious seconds it takes for Harry to grow a kernel of embarrassment and Louis already hates that he put it there. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so – forward and I don’t want to make you anymore uncomfortable, but – would you like some tea? Just as a mediocre, lukewarm apology?”

Louis looks at the small metal teapot he’s holding then to Harry’s open expression. The thought of crap café tea makes him shudder. There’s an empty chair right next to Harry.

He sits down.

 

\--

 

“ – And that’s how we ended up in Miami, on a ridiculously expensive yacht that our big boss hired for us, buzzed off our tits and laughing like hyena-children over fuck all.” Louis finishes his tale grandly, taking another sip from his cup before leaning back into his chair. “We were hoping to make it a nice bonding thing but the paps probably caught us. They usually do, they’re everywhere.”

Harry blinks at him, chewing the last of his breakfast in the silence but also like he’s weighing up his words carefully. “Wow,” he breathes eventually, “that sounds – ” “ – Annoying?” Louis nods, “Yeah, sometimes.”

“No, no, I wasn’t – ” Harry starts, shaking his head, “I was going to say lonely. It sounds...lonely.”

“I’ve got my boys and I love my job, the singing and the performing,” he replies, automatically defensive as well as a little self-conscious, like he doesn’t think he has any right to complain even if he wanted to. “It’s all I need really.”

“But they have girlfriends, right? Your bandmates?” They stare at each other for a beat. “What about you? You mentioned everyone else’s someone, but...do you get lonely?”

Louis flounders, caught off guard. “I, uh – ”

“Sorry!” Harry’s wide mouth twists as he pulls a face, giggling to break the awkwardness. “There I go again. It’s a habit; I like to work people out. In fact, it’s kind of essential for me, for what I want to do.”

“And that is?”

“Law. It’s my first week on a placement and I think I’m going law-mad, so excuse me if I’m too...intense.”

“Somehow I doubt that’s completely law’s doing. That seems to come naturally to you.” Louis says dryly, watching Harry blush pink for a second. “I can see you up there already, on the stand, interrogating some poor sod into confessing why he killed his best friend’s-nephew’s-son’s pet parrot.”

“Witnesses go on the stand, not me!” Harry cackles, nearly falling backwards from the force of it. “But then I think you did that on purpose? You’re funny. Funny and a nice face. I lucked out this morning, didn’t I?”

Louis steadies him as he fights the smile that threatens to burst onto his _nice face_ because he should stop this, really put his foot down that they shouldn’t flirt like this and in public no less. Anyone could overhear them and that’s how Louis justifies it as he shifts closer and drops his voice, shielding his mouth with his hand as he hovers by Harry’s cheek. He tries to watch Louis sidelong as well as take in what he’s saying and it’s suddenly intimate, but it’ll cancel itself out if Louis just –

“I am seeing someone.” he whispers frantically, “I’m not lonely. It’s – he’s – he’s a...he.”

Harry clears his throat. “Oh. Well, that’s great! Is that why you don’t – why you didn’t mention - ?”

“Yeah, we’d rather keep it...our business y’know? He works for my dad.” Louis’ nose scrunches, thoughtful. “Stepdad. Former stepdad. Fuck if I know what to call him anymore. He moved here, to London, when he and my mum got divorced and Andrew – that’s my...him – relocated too, as if he thought, I don’t know, he’d get to see me more this way. He’s...dependable like that.”

“You say it like that’s a bad thing,” Harry nudges him with his elbow until Louis stops staring at his hands and looks up. “ _Dependable_ ,” he mocks in a terrible imitation of Louis’ broader northern accent, “like its italicised and everything.”

“I don’t mean to,” he sighs, realising he’s dangerously close to spilling too many feelings to a virtual stranger. “Andrew’s...”

Intelligent.

Grown up.

 _Boring_.

“Older.” Louis’ relieved to feel a little grin. “It was exciting at first, some sophisticated high-flyer chasing after little ol’ me,”

“Louis, you’re a popstar!” Harry laughs, incredulous.

“No,” he says firmly, “to him I was – I am – his boss’ son. Stepson. Whatever. But I guess that must’ve been exciting for him too.”

“I can’t help but notice there’s a lot of past tense going on here...”

“I am still with him. It’s just...” he fiddles with the handle on his plain white teacup, “...Mum always told me this thing when I was little, this great big speech about how when I was older she wanted to me to find someone who would make me deliriously happy, who’d sweep me off my feet and love me as crazy as I would love them. I thought it’d change when I came out, but all she did was say it again, with added tears...” He’s lost for a moment in the memory, one key phrase sticking in his mind like he’d heard the words only yesterday. He glances up, aware that he’d zoned out, but Harry’s listening as intently as before. “She told me to stay open, to forget my head and listen to my heart because one day, maybe – ”

“ – Lightning could strike. ” Harry finishes for him, gentle and awed.

Eyes wide in astonishment, Louis knows he could say a million things to that if he hadn’t had his voice knocked out of him by someone who knew what he was going to say. How did that happen?

He doesn’t say _I feel like it genuinely struck me right now for the first time in my entire life_.

He doesn’t say _I don’t think Andrew’s even close to being someone I see myself with five years in the future, never mind forever_.

What he says is:

“I have to go.”

Louis drains the last of his cup, raising it wordlessly to Harry in thanks, who hasn’t said anything more, and goes to leave but he’s only one step away from the chair when his arm is tugged back and he can’t help it, he turns his head. _Harry_ makes him want to turn his head. It frightens him to the core.

He smiles softly, all dimpled sunshine. “I’ll walk you out. I should leave for work anyway.”

Louis lets him, but he’s in front as they get to the exit, thank god, and so doesn’t have to feel like Harry’s doing anything especially for him, such as holding the door open and acting like a gentleman on a first date. Still, his upbringing forces him to not leave things on rude terms and he forces his feet to face Harry’s way as they stand outside the café to say goodbye.

“It was nice meeting you, Harry,” he says, genuine. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Any time. I like this place. I think I like London. I like you. Hey,” he takes a step forward, aborting a move to reach for Louis’ wrist when he sees the tetchy storm on his face. “I didn’t mean to freak you out in there, I’m sorry. I heard that too and I wanted you to know that you’re not alone and that your mum sounds like a smart woman and it’s – ”

Louis gives him a little push in his stomach, slowly grinning despite himself. “Stop apologising. I’m not made of glass. People do still tell me no and the truth and things that kind of make me question...Anyway,” he asserts quickly, seemingly shaking himself out of saying more, “I really do have to leave. I’ve got a smart woman and some shrieking rascals coming to visit. Bye, Harry.”

This smiley law student beams again like Louis isn’t bailing way too many hours before he needs to. “See you around, Louis.”

It’s a lot more open-ended than goodbye but it’s how he wants it and Louis can’t tell him to change that, change him. Even if he feels like he wants to run away and hide and never think about this precious morning again. Because of this, _See you around, Louis_ plays looped in his brain like a traitor as he heads down the street. He’s sure he’s imagining Harry burning holes into the back of his head as they walk in opposite directions and he chances a quick glance over his shoulder against his better judgement. However, he’s actually not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when he sees the mop of curls not turned, confirming that it was indeed in his own imagination. He has no idea of the game they’re playing. A little to-and-fro act that Harry is as clueless about. They never catch each other’s eyes again. Louis fails to see him stand still a little longer, unwittingly love-struck in the middle of the road, staring after him as if it’ll make a difference and Louis will magically turn around and notice the gesture. Well, it _will_ make a difference, but not one either will have expected.

Louis rounds the corner, out of sight, to the distant screech of tyres.

 

\--

 

The funny thing is, it wasn’t a lie that he had to quickly leave the café that morning as he’d already stayed far longer than he usually would, purely because Harry was so nice and so very attractive. He can admit to himself that it was lovely while it lasted, but his life has everything it needs and he’s not downhearted at all. He has a job he loves, friends he’d do anything for, a boyfriend who’s a great stabilising influence and a family he adores with all of his heart.

And his mum and sisters are coming to see him today.

A couple of hours later, the wall of chatter and laughter as they get out of their car always hits Louis like running into an oncoming ocean wave – exhilarating and full of joy because he gets to hug his mum and look at his sisters with a helpless smile, see how they’re growing up so fast. Sometimes when he’s away for long stretches of time it feels like he’s missing out and it stings, but technology is something of a saviour to him and his boys.

“Oi oi, look at you!” he beams, as the twins rush forwards from his driveway and HE pulls one – who happens to be Phoebe – straight up into his arms, “God, I think you’ve officially got too big for this, babe.”

“No! Don’t say that, stupid!” she shrieks right into his ear, making him wince.

He gnashes his teeth at the little palm clumsily covering his mouth. “Rude, but okay, forget I said anything.”

He is so easy for this lot, it’s tragic. He looks up just as his mum puts one of the bags on the ground and reaches out an arm to yank him forward. He instinctively tightens his grip on his sister through a laugh, pretending to wheeze for breath as he receives the cuddle of a lifetime.

“How’s my baby?” Jay smiles, keeping her hand cupped around the back of his head.

“Fine!” the twins chirp before he can say a word, Phoebe wriggling until Louis lets her down to high five her sister.

Maybe he did that with them slightly too much when they were younger. “Cheeky monkeys! She’s talking to me!”

“You’re not a baby,”

“I didn’t think you were either,” he retorts, pinching Daisy’s nose in a fake steal.

“I don’t know,” Felicite adds, faux-thoughtful with a definite glint in her eye. She’s dyed her hair and he can see how she’s grown a tiny bit taller as she stands patiently behind his mum with Lottie, who’s tapping away at her phone like she’s completely above this outdoor reunion. “You can be sometimes.”

Louis makes a face at her. “Shut it, smelly head,”

“Make me, vombucket,”

“Vom – ” he cuts himself off, impressed with a little nod, “alright, I’ll give you that one.”

“Okay, everyone, let’s take this inside, shall we?” Jay shakes her head at them all fondly, shouldering the bag by her feet again and carrying two rucksacks. How long are they staying for, _a month_? “Darling, lead the way.”

Louis places his hands on either side of his front door, blocking it. “Hmm, what’s the password?”

Her eyes narrow. “Mum’s the word.”

“Passwords shouldn’t have spaces, but okay,” he grins, moving away and into his house as they follow.

It’s good to be back.

 

\--

 

It’s barely an hour into their visit when Jay gets a call on her mobile. Her children whine, Louis included, because she promised that work wouldn’t need her as she’d be hundreds of miles away in bloody London but frowns when she doesn’t recognise the number. Louis ushers his sisters into the kitchen with his own promises about treats in the fridge to give his mother some privacy.

She’s quick to return, but her face is serious as Louis is the first to catch her eye. In fact, she looks completely shaken and suddenly pale.

“Mum?” he asks, careful to keep his voice steady and not cause any unnecessary panic between his younger siblings. “Everything alright?”

Her head twitches then she swallows heavily. “Your dad’s been rushed to hospital.”

“He's _what_?” He feels like the rug’s been pulled out from underneath his feet, fragments of thoughts colliding. “Why are you – what’s with the - but he’s not our problem anymore!”

He’s shocked the second the words tumble out of him, but not as shocked as his mother, her eyes flashing warningly and her lips a thin, tight line. “Louis William Tomlinson, you apologise for that right this second – ”

“Shit.” he whispers, his whole body starting to tremble as he slaps a hand to his mouth, “I’m sorry, I - I didn’t – it’s not – Mum – ”

Jay crosses the kitchen in two strides and gives him a quick squeeze with a kiss to his hair, “Hey, shh, alright, take it easy. I suppose apology accepted. I could never resist that face. Now come on, we _have to go_ see what’s happening. Help me with the girls.”

Pushing down the churning in his gut, Louis plants his hands on top of Lottie and Fizzy’s heads to annoy them. “Okay then, you lot! We’re going on an unplanned adventure.”

The twins cheer uproariously, enough that it hides Lottie’s frantic whispering to him and Fizzy’s accompanying worried face. Louis slips his hands down to their shoulders and gathers them close to his sides, purely so he feels less like he’s going to float away. Or throw up.

 

\--

 

Still, something about the last year and a half turns him into a little shit once they’re told in the family room at St Luke’s that their father and ex-husband had suffered a heart attack. He knows it’s borne out of fear that’s not even that hidden, fear of losing his dad for good, but he can’t make himself stop once he knows the guy is not on his deathbed and will just need to take it easy, change his life slightly before his body decides to give him a bigger warning.

Louis folds his arms across his chest and looks at his feet. “No. I’m fine. You go first.”

He can see Lottie and Fizzy ahead of their mum, Jay stood between them and him, as he apparently chooses not to see his father with the rest of them.

“Don’t be silly; come on.” she sighs when he stubbornly shakes his head. “Lou bear, he’s your dad.”

“So you keep saying.” he mutters, biting his thumbnail with a frown. “And stop calling me that. It's no better than Boo Bear. In fact, I _hate_ anything to do with bears and my name so quit saying it, yeah?”

“You’re acting like a _bear_ with a sore head,” Lottie puts in gleefully from behind Jay’s back.

Louis rolls his eyes as his mother turns to her eldest daughter, “Hey, that’s enough. Go see your dad and I’ll be with you in a minute, thank you, sweetheart. Take your sisters too. I want a word with Louis alone.”

His sister pokes her tongue out at him before she leaves, brightly telling the twins “let’s go see Daddy!” as they push open the door to walk down the corridor. At least he has a private room. He’s doing pretty well for himself in the city these days and can afford to flash the cash a bit. Not as much as Louis obviously but then that particular comparison is unfair.

He feels a touch to his cheek and realises he’s been staring at the door of which beyond lies the only man he’s ever thought of as his honest to god father, recovering from a heart attack. All of a sudden, his knees feel a bit wobbly.

“What’s gotten into you today, Lou?”

He sits down hard in the first seat, not even sure he’ll connect with it, and scrubs his hands over his face a few times. “I had a really weird morning.” he says from between his fingers, trying to breathe, “I dunno, it scared me shitless and it’s stupid.”

“I know I probably frightened you in the kitchen, but sometimes I forget who I’m talking to. You’re so grown up now y’know, my baby first born.” Jay takes the seat beside him and strokes a hand through his fringe. “Listen to me, Dad’s gonna be fine. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

For a second, Louis wants to tell her that’s not entirely what he meant, he wants to tell her about Harry, that he knew about lightning striking and love and passion that is forever, but he knows it’s not the right time. Besides, he’s not supposed to be inappropriately obsessing over other men he barely knows. He’s in a committed relationship. By the same token, he knows why he wants to spill. She likes Andrew well enough, but Louis’ always got the impression that a tiny part of her thinks he doesn’t quite fit with her son or their family as a whole. For example, he’s not exactly the type to let the twins slather him in makeup and put pins in his carefully coiffed hair.

“I don’t want him to leave again,” he says quietly into her shoulder and there it is, the black cloud looming above. “Like, permanently.”

“Oh baby,” she clucks, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s alright. He’ll be right as rain in no time, you’ll see.”

He melts into her embrace enough that he believes it.

 

\--

 

Things are almost back to normal a few days later.

The morning Louis’ dad was discharged from hospital, he told his children that he wanted them all to come to dinner at his house. With his usually hectic schedule, Louis can’t remember how many months it’s been since it happened last and everyone agrees. Jay stays at Louis’, fending off her son’s worry at being excluded by telling him that they needed some time with their other parent, followed by some deliberate mushy stuff about the brand new man in her life and how she was going to spend her evening using this invention named the phone. In moments like those, clearly Louis sees where he got his wit from.

So here they are - Louis and his dad, his siblings and Andrew. Somehow the fact that Andrew is amazing at his job has always seemingly got more attention from his dad than him sleeping with his son and it makes Louis feel pretty mundane. Thank god for his flighty career as a jet-setting popstar!

“Where are you off to next, Louis?” he asks right on cue from across the table.

“Australia.” he smiles, fond memories taking over for a second. “Me and Liam are gonna do so much surfing again.”

“Is that wise?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he shoots back, quirking an eyebrow at Andrew eating primly next to him.

He’s still in a suit and tie, making Louis feel decidedly underdressed in his jeans and low neck t-shirt. Andrew pats his hand as it rests on the fancy tablecloth.

“I’d rather you didn’t get hurt that’s all. Who knows what’s lurking in the water over there.”

Louis tries to find his concern touching rather than patronising. He falls a little short. “I can look after myself, thanks. Hey, I think I heard the door?”

Letting the subject go, he reaches for his drinking glass that isn’t even empty and has no intention of going to the door (even though he actually thinks he heard the doorbell). Instead, he gets up from his seat and walks into the kitchen to get away for a second. Also before he has the chance to say something he might regret.

Intelligent.

Grown up.

Boring.

 _Not meant to be_.

He growls under his breath the minute his thoughts from his conversation with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named pops into his head for the first time in a few days. Admittedly, he’s had more pressing matters to deal with since then, like his father suffering a heart attack in the middle of a meeting at work.

Maybe they simply need a dirty weekend away somewhere to recapture the spark. Him and Andrew, not him and Harry. Perhaps they can try a bit of roleplay, pretend like Louis’ father/Andrew’s boss doesn’t know about them (like he didn’t at the start), the thrill of it all, and he can get fucked hard on an old leather couch or after a picnic by a lake lined with trees (neither of which have ever happened, but a guy can dream his cheesy log cabin fantasies).

 _I like chest hair and proper stubble and men in nicely tailored suits. I like them older, more experienced, willing to teach me things. I like sucking dick and taking it up the arse and I have found all these things and more_ , Louis recites silently as a reminder whilst he fills his half-empty glass with more orange juice and heads for the door. He hears conversation as he gets close, but zeroes in on Andrew because he feels a tad guilty and he wants to be proactive in his relationship, damn it. Relationships do take work.

He trails his hand boldly down Andrew’s chest over his shirt and smudges a quick kiss to his temple (he’s not one for PDA, even in front of potential future family-in-law) and sidesteps to sit down when he spots his dad stood in the entry to the dining room with another man having suddenly materialised beside him. Guess there was someone at the door after all. Louis straightens up immediately, eyes wide, and his fingers tighten on the glass in his hand so he doesn’t drop it in shock.

“You? Sorry, I - ” he splutters, mouth hanging open and blinking like he really can’t believe his eyes. “ _Harry_?”

Louis’ dad and Andrew both look between them, surprised. Andrew cranes his neck until Louis takes the hint and slowly slides into his seat. He feels like he’s been drugged as he watches Andrew frown in confusion from the corner of his eye. “You know him?”

“I – we only – ” he grapples around for how to explain, “We’ve met, yeah. Last week, a little place in Camden.” Andrew doesn’t know about that café. God, Louis never thought in a million years that he’d see Harry again and have to think about the effect that day had on him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

He watches his dad and Harry share a look. Harry looks a little less put together than that morning – his tie loosened and askew, a button open at the bottom of his waistcoat – as if he’d had a particularly taxing day. Louis’ dad swallows thickly, silent communication strangely passing between them even though, as far as Louis’ aware, they don’t know one other at all and this is a figment of his imagination. A fever dream. A hopeless, inappropriately misguided crush.

“Well, this is Harry, er, Styles,” his dad stumbles as the man himself looks on, serene. “And he works for me.”

“What?” Louis gasps.

“What?” Andrew barks.

“ _What_?” Louis’ youngest sisters’ chime, collapsing into giggles because they think this is a game.

He grips Harry’s shoulder. “Harry started working for me last week and, uh, he dropped by because I asked him to, obviously. I mean – ”

“When were you going to tell me about this, Mark?” Andrew interrupts, expression dark.

For once, Louis doesn’t want to add anything because he’s too busy berating himself for not asking Harry enough questions that morning at the café. If he did, he would’ve found out that Harry was about to become more tangled in his life than either of them could’ve predicted. Although he will admit he’s confused as to why Andrew apparently knew nothing about it too.

Harry takes a step forward, eyes sparkling but a smile not really on his face. Louis’ not used to that. It seemed to him that Harry was the type to smile a lot and so easily. “And you are?”

Louis sees the precise second it ruffles Andrew’s feathers. Instead of a polite enquiry like Louis is sure it was (okay, half sure), he takes it as a dismissive sleight against his status or something and actually stands up, holding his tie to his stomach and thrusting his other hand out. Louis bites his cheek to stop the sigh over such alpha male bullshit.

“Andrew Baxter.” he introduces as the muscle in his jaw twitches and he pumps Harry’s clasped palm vigorously. “I’m a barrister at Mark’s firm.”

“Top man, top man,” Louis’ dad nods quickly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “One of our best.”

“Charmed, I’m sure.” Harry pins him there with his gaze, looking anything but.

“Yes, well.” he blusters in the ensuing silence, jerkily extracting his hand to sit down again. He drapes his arm over Louis’ chair, something he’s never done before, and Louis can’t help the raised eyebrows he throws him for such uncharacteristically odd behaviour, which he’s possibly oblivious to or ignores.

“Right!” Louis’ dad cheerily claps Harry on the back, before he can do much more than smile wanly at Andrew and have to leave it at that. “Thanks for coming over, Harry. I know it’s getting quite late and I’m sure you’ve got family or a girlfriend to get back to, so I’ll let – ”

“I don’t have to go actually.” Harry says, bold but entirely calm, then curiously sniffs the air, eyes roving the table and their half-eaten meals. “Mmm, smells like my favourite.”

His full grin is like kittens and rainbows and those dimples, holy hell. Louis’ weak despite himself and it seems his dad is too. “Oh. Then, uh, you should stay.” he suggests, “Yes, yes, stay and have dinner with us! There’s plenty to go around and I suppose we do have some things to discuss.”

“Thank you so much, Mark.” he inclines his head in a nod. “That’s very kind of you, honestly.”

“Not at all.” Louis’ dad motions him to the end of the table, where Andrew not-so secretly sulks on his right and Lottie is starry-eyed to his left. Louis really must remind her that she’s got a boyfriend and, while he’s at it, so does he. “So let me introduce everyone. We have Andrew, my right-hand man, you’ve apparently met Louis already and these are my daughters - Charlotte, Felicite, Daisy and Phoebe. Please, take a seat.”

They lapse into dinner-quiet, clinking cutlery and chewing until Louis looks up and sees Harry is already staring at him. It’s a sort of blank look and would be creepy except he makes it seem simply attentive instead. Louis presses his lips together to hide his smile in case, between them, Andrew sees and bows his head to stare at his meat and two veg. Suddenly, he’s thinking of dick jokes and snorts. Harry follows; grinning openly once he knows he’s broken the ice.

“So Louis,” he begins, dabbing his mouth clumsily with the napkin he’d endearingly tucked into the front of his shirt collar. “How do you know Andrew? Just as your father’s highly adored colleague?”

He never took Harry for a careful wind-up merchant because he’d mentioned Andrew at the café, but he’s got the best poker face and the knowledge of this new skill makes Louis cover his laugh with a cough into his fist, eyes crinkling nonetheless.

“I’m his partner actually.” Andrew leans forward to answer for him, blocking their view of each other.

Harry raises his eyebrow too innocently ‘curious’ to be genuine, shifting his eyes off Louis slowly. “Oh? Business partner?”

“ _No_.” he grits out, “Boyfriend. But we prefer the term ‘partner’, don’t we, darling?”

If he’s completely honest, Louis doesn’t care either way but he hums his agreement anyway to placate the poor guy before he dies from being toyed with.

Trying to return to his mission of being a good _partner_ ; he further takes the risk of sliding his hand onto Andrew’s tense thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. He flinches at the contact because, of course, the PDA thing – especially in the company of a stranger – and it makes Louis twitch too, embarrassed that he can’t even be that cheeky anymore. He thought he liked his spontaneous, mischievous streak. He’s uncertain whether Lottie giggled and nudged her sister, but it feels like she knows what he was doing under the table and he’s horrified that his cheeks burn. It only gets worse off Harry’s intense stare and he’s going to need counselling or something to work out why or how that makes him squirmy.

As a sorry on top of a sorry, Louis reaches up and brushes his fingertips along the side of Andrew’s head. His hair as black as tar and is a plentiful, slicked quiff on top with short sides but Louis thinks he can see grey coming through if he squints and he finds it sexy and distinguished like George Clooney, honest, even though his boyfriend is barely 32 years old and his face is pale around his dark brown eyes. Clooney without a tan and the hot daddy wrinkles then.

“Louis, stop it.” he hisses irritably only after a few seconds, jerking away.

He folds his hands in his lap with a sigh.

It’s gonna be a long night.

 

\--

 

A couple of days pass and Louis feels so antsy, possessed by this excess energy that he hasn’t been able to get rid of. After dinner the other night at his dad’s house, he didn’t go home and have sex with his boyfriend like he hoped and he blames that as the latest reason why his life suddenly feels off-kilter, however churlish it is. He’s tried to make himself be vaguely useful today, but it has ultimately come to this: being at his dad’s twice in one week, doing slow laps of the indoor pool to see if exercise will do the trick. Masturbation only takes the edge off for so long.

Surfacing from swimming a length underwater, Louis pushes his flattened fringe away from his eyes and blinks out the chlorine. Weak daytime sunlight filters through the big bay windows and he can see the rest of the house from where he lifts his crossed arms up onto the edge of the big, rectangular pool, outside decking and a garden leading to French doors. Alone with his thoughts, every other noise he hears is magnified and a squeak has him whip his head around quickly, heart beating fast until he sees that it’s Harry, dressed in a much neater suit and shiny shoes, more reminiscent of the man he first met.

“Oh,” he says flatly, panic over. “It’s you.”

“Yes. Who else would it be?”

“Strangers who turn up unannounced in the middle of the evening?” He knows he’s being glib and crotchety because of the nightmare couple of days he’s had to deal with and his long-standing niggles with Andrew, so he’s apparently taking it out on the next person he comes across, but he can’t bring himself to be polite when his precious alone time has also been disrupted. When Harry still hasn’t moved an inch from entering the room, in fact barely reacted at all, Louis decides, with an inward sigh, to climb out. “I’m surprised you’re not at the office. That’s where my dad is.” he adds meaningfully, careful on the slippery floor in walking over to the sun lounger to pick up his towel and haphazardly dry off. “What do you want?”

“Do you love Andrew?”

He freezes, snaps his gaze up from where his hands have stilled at his wet thighs. “ _What_? Where did that come from?”

“Do you love Andrew?” Harry repeats easily, tilting his head. Louis fights the urge to cover himself completely as curious eyes linger on his bare torso. “I saw you kiss him at dinner the other night, but he wasn’t very...responsive.”

He feels his jaw clench, shocked by the invasiveness of such a question. There’s one thing to share a joke over tea, it’s another to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business if we’re ‘responsive’ or not.” he replies tightly, automatically defensive because it’s just too unintentionally close to the bone. “Listen, I shouldn’t have told you about him, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just forget I said anything because I don’t think it’s helping and you can just go back to whatever you’ve got going on with my dad, which, by the way, I can’t believe you didn’t mention to me before and, for god’s sake, _why_ do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Harry asks gently, unfazed by his distracted frown and continuing to stare at his mouth.

“So intense when I’m talking.”

“I’d like us to be friends. Would you prefer it if I stop?”

“Yes.” he snaps, before Harry’s open face makes his mood crack guiltily, rubbing a hand across his own. “No. Fuck, I don’t know! Sorry. It’s honestly not you. I’m not at my best right now or my nicest. Guess I’m not used to that now either. People don’t normally watch me like that. Well, not when I’m away from work.”

“You have a nice mouth.” The earnest manner in which Harry will say these things startles a giggle out of him as he slides closer to Louis, hands in his pockets and biting his lip. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“Yeah...”

“Why?”

“Because – ” he says then realises he doesn’t have anything else in mind. This up close, Harry’s eyes are green but could almost pass for blue in certain light, maybe if he steps to the side or raises his chin a fraction more to catch the sparkle and reflect the pool water next to them. His hair flops effortlessly in thick waves wherever Harry wants it to go except for the stubborn curls by his ears and his mouth, his mouth is obscene, a deep blushing pink. Louis has no idea why Harry would want to watch _his_ form words. This up close, he feels drawn in, mesmerised, as the damp on his skin makes him shiver and he feels a little unsteady. “Not – that’s not the right word exactly.” He admits breathily. “It’s just you make me want to – I want to – Harry, can I – ”

“Louis?”

Jolted so hard from the moment that that’s not Harry’s voice but Andrew’s, he blinks wildly and stumbles back a step, forcing a smile onto his face. He notices as he turns that Harry barely moves, unconcerned. Shit! He’d almost just...well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. “Babe, hi! Aren’t you supposed to be in court all day?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your tour?” he replies tersely. “But of course, here you are having your own pool party. Is this a romantic time for two or can anyone join in? Hell, maybe you’d like that. Sorry, for the interruption.”

“Andrew, wait!” Louis calls, rushing after him.

The tiles in the corridor are cool on his bare feet as he hurriedly tries to wrap the towel around his waist and water slowly drips from his legs. His boyfriend rounds on him before he can say anything else, face pinched.

“What’s he doing here? Shouldn’t he be making the teas for your father like a good little office boy?” he hisses, like it’s all one big inconvenience. “My case this afternoon was adjourned. I thought maybe we could go out for lunch, but I see you have plans already.”

“I dunno why you’re being like this or what’s going on with him – ”

“ – He was probably watching you swim, the goddamn creep,” he sneers.

“ – But obviously my dad, _your boss_ ,” Louis reminds pointedly, “has his reasons. Don’t take it out on me because you’ve been replaced.”

“Are you going to replace me too? Go on the charm offensive?” Andrew looks him over once, but it feels far from complimentary. “It wouldn’t surprise me, the way you’re flaunting yourself in nothing but shorts the size of a postage stamp.”

He rolls his eyes, exasperated. “I thought I was on my own in my dad’s house! What, are you jealous?”

“It’s not about that. I don’t like the way he looks at you, I don’t like the way he talks to you. Stop being so slutty, Louis.”

Andrew’s nostrils flare as they stare each other down, but Louis finally understands where this has felt like its going and, if he’s honest with himself, it’s probably been a long time coming. His gaze narrows.

“And there we have it. Cheers, really. I can’t believe you’d actually – after everything...” he snorts humourlessly. “Well, d’you know what? It’s tough shit because I like the way he looks and talks to me and, for your information, there’s nothing ‘slutty’ about it. At least he wants to know what I have to say, which you don’t seem to anymore. I’m there to look pretty and not bother you. I thought we could move on from that and I’ve been trying so hard since I came back from tour, but instead I feel like such a fucking idiot. You haven’t touched me or let me touch you in so long.”

He scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous. I kiss you every morning.”

“Yeah, saying goodbye with a bloody peck! I need more. I’m worth more.”

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Andrew’s posture straightens, his tall stature reminiscent of the man Louis’ been trying not to let invade his every thought. However, his eyes aren’t inquisitive and magnetic. They’re dark and bottomless as his expression hardens. “Have you been going behind my back? Is that what this is?”

“What? With _Harry_? No!” he inhales sharply, finally hearing out loud what Andrew thought the minute he learnt that they’d already met.

“Because I’m sure he’d love to know all your dirty secrets before things get serious, wouldn't he?” he says before Louis can come out of his disbelief and get a word in edgeways. “How about that I plucked you from your silly boyband and showed you what the _real_ good life is? So you didn’t have to sneak around, whoring yourself out every night to pretentious, coke-addled twats who had no idea that you could do so much better than them? That you told me the thought of being with a man full of experience and ambition really turned you on? Or how you still _beg_ to be fucked until you’re _screaming_ , sticking your arse in the air like the willing hole you are because the truth is, even after all that, any cock will do for you, won’t it?

Louis blinks like he’s been slapped, his throat closing up. Horrified, he can no longer speak. He guesses that means they’re not having a simple disagreement over a house guest.

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks and I’m really tired of yours.” he continues with a sigh, as if Louis is that disappointingly inept pet. “I’m tired of you nagging me, of your flirting, how you’re gagging for every scrap of attention. It’s needy, it’s pathetic and it’s immaturity at its highest, darling. Don’t come crying to me when you inevitably return to your senses and realise Mr Harry Styles is a jumped up little boy in a shit suit. We’re done here. Goodnight.”

Finished with that and, it seems, with Louis, he picks up his briefcase by his feet and makes his exit. His expensive shoes squeak on the floor.

“Goodnight.” Louis mutters to his feet, crushed despite the fury boiling inside.

He takes a few deep breaths and thinks it’s a faint echo of Andrew’s shoes that he can hear until, behind him, he hears Harry’s rumbling voice.

“He is definitely not a gentleman.” He’s close enough that it feels like the warmth in the air between them is from his body and a whisper of his lips at Louis’ ear. “He should never, ever talk to you in that way. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well that makes two of us. I should’ve known once the novelty wore off that things would be...different.” he shrugs, wriggling his toes and still clutching at his towel. He looks to his right side, but can’t quite turn all the way round. “Thanks though, I do appreciate it. I guess this means I have one less thing to worry about. Single again. Yay.”

From such blatant sarcasm, Harry curls his big, warm hand onto his shoulder. “He didn’t deserve you.”

Louis daren’t face him properly, not when he still feels on the brink of a good cry. Things are so bad and a great relief at the same time, which makes for some confusing emotions that he fancies ignoring for the immediate future. Thankfully, he’s wet and covered in goosebumps so, whilst it’s probably rude to end the situation like this right now, he manages a tiny smile at Harry before hastily leaving to go put some clothes on.

 

\--

 

The next time Louis sees Harry, it’s a surprise.

“My dad let you go for the rest of the day? Just like that? What are you?” he laughs, eyebrows cocked. “How did you do it?”

“I have my ways.” he smiles.

It’s odd because Louis totally believes him. Harry and his dad always look like they’re scheming and confiding, especially since things ended between him and Andrew, and yet it never feels like he is trying to suck up. Louis knows he pretty much has his parents wrapped around his little finger and he’s in awe that Harry appears to have the same gift.

He’d been walking through the park nearest his house, having taken his sisters off his mum’s hands for a while, and felt happiness bubble inside him as he saw Harry ambling towards them. He wanted to laugh at him strolling around still dressed impeccably and yet he looks so smart and sure of himself that it’s a grin that overtakes his face instead. Tension he didn’t know was stored in his shoulders seeps out as nobody seems particularly interested that Harry is there without their father, beyond the twins’ silent, inquisitive glances. Out of the corner of his eye, as they start walking towards a playground in the middle distance, Louis thinks he sees Lottie roll her eyes, but it could’ve been at something on her phone so he chooses to ignore her. She seems to have gotten past her casual crush since the first night Harry met the family and if she won’t blithely make deliberate assumptions to annoy Louis then he won’t tease her about being glued to that thing she calls a lifeline.

“I asked the boys if they wanted to come,” he explains because his mind is otherwise unnaturally blank of conversation and they’re always good to fall back on, “but no dice, so unfortunately it’s only me and this rabble. Zayn said he had to do more in his graffiti room – I swear that guy’s obsessed – and Liam’s got family down. Niall was too lazy, probably; he hasn’t answered my text yet.”

Walking just in front of them, Daisy’s short pigtails whip round. “Is Niall coming? Please say he is! Please!”

He mouths to Harry _massive crush_ then turns to his sister, smoothing her hair. “I don’t know, babe, he didn’t say. Maybe.”

“Phoebe!” she shrieks, running to catch up to her twin ahead with her other sisters.

“Oi!” Louis yells after her, laughing, “I’m not carrying you back to the house if you fall and break something! Be careful!”

He will admit that he relaxes when Daisy reaches the three who have stopped and are waiting for her, mostly so his mum won’t kill him when he’s supposed to be the responsible big brother and adult. He doesn’t have to be near to hear their chattering either, Phoebe clutching at her sister’s arms as they all loudly tease her about how she likes Niall best. It’s very cute, but Louis has to hide his sniggering and distract them with something else before it turns into a metaphorical bloodbath of twins defending against the rest. He physically steps into the middle of them, passing the ball he brought with him between his hands.

“Alright, who’s up for a game of football?”

 

\--

 

They don’t play football.

Louis gets outvoted, which is entirely unfair and Harry was no help at all when he smirked and admitted that he was crap at it. Compromising, Fizzy and Lottie agreed to push the twins on the swings if it meant that their brother left them alone for five minutes. Louis would’ve protested indignantly but somehow couldn’t find the words when Harry threw his arm happily around his shoulder and promised the girls – _his girls_ , damn it, the traitors – that he and Louis would be sitting nearby if they were needed. This time, Louis definitely catches Lottie’s smirk as he’s led away to the first bench they see.

“They’re fine, Louis,” he chuckles, taking a seat, “Look, we can see them from here and everything. They won’t run off with strangers, really.”

He has half a mind to say that the twins might before he realises that this isn’t like when he was a teenager anymore. It’s natural that in his absence, the two next eldest will have taken on his role somewhat and whilst this is London and not Doncaster, he probably has nothing to worry about when they look after each other so effortlessly. He comes back to himself to see Harry’s grin as he pats the space beside him and Louis finally accepts with a coy smile. It quickly tries to turn his cheeks pink too because, for a few seconds, his body is pressed up against Harry’s from shoulder to elbow to thigh and knee, but he fights it with a cough, feeling just as nervous with his clothes on as he did dripping wet and half naked.

“So c’mon then,” he tries, tucking his leg underneath himself to put some distance between them. “Tell me all about Harry Styles.”

Harry shrugs minutely. “Nothing to tell. I’m...Harry.” Louis giggles and lifts his elbow onto the back of the bench, leaning his head on his hand. He bats his long eyelashes comically until Harry raises his eyebrows a little. He seems to make every move count. “Okay. Do you want to hear a secret?”

Louis lights up. “Oh god, do I? Is it juicy? Is it about someone else? Do I know them?”

“It’s about me. All you need to know is sometimes I – ” he pauses, eyes bright and concentrated, as if to check that Louis really wants to know, whilst he feels that tug low in his stomach once more, pushing him even closer to Harry. “Sometimes, in my line of work, I wonder whether I’m leaving enough time to really pay attention to everything else, to understand and appreciate what’s going on around me.”

Quite what a student who wants a career in law has missed from his life, Louis doesn’t know, but he can certainly relate. “Yeah,” he nods, looking over to his sisters, “sorry to say I think I know what you mean. I love my job, but I hate feeling like I’m out of the loop on other things. I thought I was starting to get the balance, but obviously I didn’t even pick the right guy to be serious about.”

“Don’t say that.” Harry covers the hand that’s resting on his bent knee, capturing Louis’ attention again. “It wasn’t your fault he had no manners.”

Hypnotised by the slow blink and easy sincerity, Louis feels the need to fidget but the thought of pulling the focus down to their resting hands makes the will to blush even stronger. He’s lucky that it rarely shows on his face, but he’s not so sure about the hopeless hearts. Harry’s just so lovely all the time.

“You’re being nice, yeah? That’s all this is?”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Because this is too good to be true. Nobody looks perfect, sounds perfect and acts like the perfect gentleman.” Louis swallows hard, eyes widening. “Shit, you’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you?”

Harry shakes his head and smiles enough to the side that one dimple pops.

“Boyfriend?”

“No. I don’t have a boyfriend, Louis.” he replies calmly, brushing down his legs as he stands.

“Louis! Louis! We want sweets!” a duet of voices suddenly prevents him from doing more than stare dumbly at Harry as he takes in the news that this guy is _single_. “Can we get sweets? Please? Pretty please! Louis?”

“I think you should answer them before they explode.” he smirks, changing from serene to mischievous in a split second.

“Sorry, girls.” he tells them regretfully, getting to his feet and taking the twins’ hands to soften the blow, “Mum would kill me and I don’t want to miss the only Sunday roast I’ll probably get to have this year.”

He thinks he hears a mumbled joking retort of “selfish!” from one of the other two, but refuses to be drawn because nothing is more important to him today than roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding.

Since the twins have had enough, they leave the playground in the park behind and head back to Louis’s house. He has half a mind to invite Harry to tea, so he’s deliberately hung back from his sisters to have some privacy to ask except Harry appears to have other ideas.

“Thank you for the company, Louis,” he nods at him and something in Louis’ chest flutters giddily at the thought of him performing a gracious little bow, all buttoned up to match his attitude to correct behaviour. It’s possible that he’s dangerously close to morphing into a real life Prince Charming in Louis’ head. He watches him also turn to regard his sisters, who are gathered around them both now that they’re stood idly in the driveway. “I enjoyed our walk very much. Good afternoon, ladies. Good afternoon, Louis.”

“But!” he blurts out before he can control himself, struggling to ask at the last minute. “don’t – stay. I mean, you _should_ stay. For tea. Here. At my house. My mum. She won’t mind.”

No, just a man she’s never met being invited to eat food she’s cooked with no prior notice whatsoever. Well, if the shoe fits for his dad...

“Smooth, Lou, smooth.” Fizzy mutters, nudging him hard in the back.

His heart sinks when Harry shakes his head in a no because he wants to know so much more about him after today and what better way over a meal (okay, it’s with four sisters and his mother, so not exactly ideal) but he’s shocked out of his disappointment as Harry tugs on the hand he was holding out in a futile attempt to stop him leaving, sending him bumping into Harry’s firm chest.

“May I kiss you goodbye?” he whispers in a low voice, already mostly there.

It’s one of the increasingly many reasons Louis likes him so much so soon. He asks and he waits and he focuses on Louis like he’s truly someone who matters, who deserves to be heard and taken care of. It’s pretty irresistible and a touch wild because Louis feels invincible when he’s with him and there’s only one answer to his question as he lets want wash over him. He gives his nod of permission and Harry raises warm hands to his face, dropping his chin to connect their lips. Louis’ helpless, just has to be delicately kissed, then, after a few seconds, eases his mouth away with great difficulty because unfortunately, he’s all too aware that they still have a bloody audience behind them. The burn of sudden shyness and embarrassment at last blots high onto his cheeks as he struggles to turn his eyes from Harry. Daisy and Phoebe are giggling behind their hands, apparently finding the whole thing funny, but there’s no such luck with the older two, if their wide stares are anything to go by.

“Mum’s probably waiting...” he prompts, eyeballing them unsubtly, “And it’s getting cold. You should go inside. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Unlikely.” Lottie snorts, but helps to usher everyone into the house anyway.

Finally alone, Louis’ too... _everything_ to look at him again, even though they haven’t let go of each other physically. Too nervous, too excited, too surprised, too hopeful. Too busy wishing for another kiss like the first. With perhaps less courteous tenderness and more tongue. He quickly starts to count his breaths and his heartbeats, getting mixed up, when he feels the tip of Harry’s nose nuzzle into his neck. Its cold, making him shiver, and that’s the only reason.

“I meant it y’know.” he says, placing his hands against Harry’s narrow waist to mimic the hold he has on him. “You’re welcome to stay for tea. You’ve already met my dad and my sisters. You could come in and meet my mum, complete the set, although that might not be such an easy ride. She might interrogate you a bit.”

He knows he’s talking rubbish from the way he laughs kindly and Louis wants to bury his face in his broad body as he feels a kiss to his temple, but distance is beginning to separate them. Now that he’s had a taste of resolving the interesting, crackling tension between them, it’s not enough to satisfy and he can’t help how he almost leans on tiptoes to prolong the second kiss Harry presses to his mouth. It’s not deep or long, although he finds himself slightly breathless from it all the same.

“I love your lips, so soft. I love your kisses. We should certainly do this again sometime.” Harry whispers into his parted lips, tongue catching slightly as he licks his own. “You’re wonderful, Louis, thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

He blinks hazily, his body empty, as Harry’s warmth moves gracefully from his grip. He doesn’t wait until he’s out of sight to go inside.

He’s not that silly from a kiss or two.

 

\--

 

The thing is, Harry keeps telling Louis versions of _see you when I see you_ but, whilst he’s not particularly proud of being so bold so early on, he knows where to find him as he remains at his father’s. Louis has a few more days until Australia, so decides to make the most of it.

He’s pretty sure that lightning strikes within him whenever he and Harry are in the same room and feels a spark in his chest as he eventually locates him by the indoor pool. The very pool Louis had been in the last time they were in this house together. He’s crouching by the edge as Louis shuffles in, his fingertips barely grazing the surface of the water. It was always difficult not to notice how big Harry’s hands are, how could you not, quite frankly, but now Louis’ not just looking, he’s appreciating and wanting and the facts are clear. He has no doubt he could probably do a lot of good with those hands.

“Hi.”

Harry pulls up to his full height, smiling. “Hello.”

“Yeah, I was, uh, checking up on my dad, y’know.” he says shakily, mouth gone dry. “Except I forgot that he’s back in work because he’s a workaholic and he doesn’t really need me to...yeah, so. Here I am.”

It’s the worst lie he’s ever told and they both know it. Somehow the ridiculousness of the situation makes a grin burst onto his face, eyes nearly closing from how full his smile is.

“It’s nice to see you.”

“Because I have a nice face, right?” Harry’s face is blank with confusion, which has Louis giggling even more as the thought that he’s forgetful is actually downright adorable. “Sorry, that was a terrible joke. It’s nice to see you too.”

He touches his neck and looks up as he slowly walks forward, Harry’s gaze hungrily tracking his fingers as they slip down from his collarbone to relax at his side. He made sure to wear a t-shirt under his open denim coat that was low enough to show them and his tattoos off and it seems to be having the desired effect. Harry looks pristine as per usual, this time in a navy three piece suit and pale blue shirt, top button undone.

“Shouldn’t you be packing for Australia?” he enquires politely, but his eyes are blown.

It reminds Louis too much of a man he no longer wants to think about, so he bats the question away with a dismissive wave. “Lottie has a birthday coming up in a few days. She’s having a party, god help us all, so I’ll be here for that and then...” He’s rather done with talking. “Shouldn’t you be in work?”

He can obviously tell. “It can wait.”

Louis still feels like he barely knows anything of value about Harry, but he’s always so taken in by him, by how he’s so confident that everything will sort itself out. It’s an enticing way of thinking and Louis steps into his orbit, ready with his mouth and his hands and the rest of his body.

He takes the first kiss slowly, sinking into each other again, and presses his smile into Harry’s mouth when he keeps his eyes open. The colour of his irises shine like peridot in the late afternoon, too lovely to dim by drawing the long blinds over the big windows beside them. They risk being seen from the garden and maybe that’s why Harry’s posture feels rigid under Louis’ hands on his shoulders, but he can’t make his feet move. Instead, he tempts Harry away from thought altogether, shifting into his personal space and taking hold of his face to give him his tongue. He tastes like expensive coffee and shortbread biscuits, a well earned break that Louis is determined to use to his advantage as his fingers start to absently toy with Harry’s lapels.

Harry follows his lead, pulling his coat off his shoulders before Louis helps to shrug it from his arms. He pays it no mind when it falls to the tiles with a muted thump, shivering jerkily for a second as Harry cups the nape of his neck with one hand and slides the other round to his lower back to bring Louis tight against his frame. Suitably engrossed, it’s harder to concentrate since Harry is kissing back with interest, but Louis rests his palms on his chest and sets to work on the many buttons cascading down his front. He tries to savour the moment as each square of skin is revealed under his fingers until he comes up for air and looks down to catch a glimpse of a tattoo curling up to Harry’s collarbones. He’s guilty for thinking that he doesn’t seem the type, but it’s there in black and white as Louis finishes undoing most of the buttons and pushes the jacket, waistcoat and shirt to hang at his broad shoulders. His eyes roam intently along the many places where ink permeates Harry’s pale skin, his fingers lightly tracing the shapes, and he decides that it makes him seem more playful, encouraging Louis to show his own. He bites his lip, an edge of self-conscious coyness in his expression, and lifts his t-shirt over his head to drop it carelessly to join his coat. Harry makes to reach for him and Louis grins wide enough that his eyes shut into happy lines to see him try and get rid of his jacket and waistcoat with his hands wedged inside the cuffs of his shirt, restricting movement.

“C’mere, you,” he rolls his eyes fondly at the struggling flap of sleeves in his face and Harry’s frown. “Did no one ever teach you to undo the buttons first, eh?”

His eyes flutter once as he feels Harry kiss him tenderly on the forehead in thanks and he returns the gesture to the corner of his pink pout and rubs his fingertips over Harry’s wrists, raising his eyebrows at a further collection of tiny tattooed marks. He hopes with time that he’ll get the chance to find them all.

Both of them half naked, Louis grasps Harry’s hand and walks towards the wide chaise lounge set by the window. It looks like it could be a very ornate bed with the size of it, piled high with sumptuously coloured pillows and cushions, as Harry crowds him against its sturdy, gilded foot and nuzzles into his neck, arms circling around his middle. Louis lets himself be selfish for a second, closing his eyes to Harry’s touch that’s cautiously and attentively exploring. A shudder rocks through him when he feels Harry’s teeth nip gently at his earlobe and thumbs brush his nipples, a double whammy of sensation that reminds him that this may be nice but he can’t wait to feel a lot more.

Harry’s warming up to things too, a half-hard press against the back of Louis’ sweatpants, so he turns slowly to face him, except Harry takes it as an invitation to tease his nipples again and Louis sees his lips part in fascinated wonder as he hunches forward to deter another attack, biting Harry right under his jawbone in revenge. He sucks on the skin for luck, getting a kick out of how he tenses in surprise, before Louis trails his mouth from there and stops at the wing of a bird to wiggle Harry’s belt and zipper open to reach for him inside.

He’s warm and long in his palm and Louis perches on the chaise to get a good look as well. His body is almost too good to be true in its magnificence, like something straight out of Louis’ dreams that the likes of Andrew could sadly never measure up to. He’s a classic shape – angular in his broad shoulders and smaller waist – like the body of a protector or warrior, someone capable enough to walk to the ends of the earth, if indeed it was possible.

Eyes stay fixed on Louis as he leans in to softly kiss below Harry’s bellybutton and then, after a breath, the tip of his erection. When he glances up to check that he’s still on board with everything, the shock of heat in Harry’s stare makes him rock the heel of his hand between his own legs as he grabs around the root of Harry with the other. To begin with, it’s a little awkward. Not wrong exactly, just different because it’s new, he is a new person to learn. It should make Louis feel that there is distance between them but, when Harry slides his fingers through his fringe and back to rest on the crown of his head, the gentle reverence draws him closer, expanding Louis’ chest with relief and affection and a soaring sense that this could be bigger than was expected.

As he works his mouth down, Harry makes his first uncontrolled noise. Up to now, he’s been so calm and collected that Louis worried that his time in a long-term relationship might mean his skills would be just as stale, so the low hum of pleasure is the greatest boost, enough to want him to really show off. Confident that he’s staying right where he’s put, Louis stops slowly tugging at the rest of him to place his hand on Harry’s lower back, feeling the muscles flex as he pauses his sucking then takes him all the way, pushing him to tilt his hips forward until they meet. In the few seconds he controls his breathing and swallows to the sound of Harry’s shaky, deep moan, Louis squeezes himself hard in his underwear and any skin of Harry’s he can touch at the same time, from his sharp sides to the fuzzy backs of his lean, quivering thighs.

“Wow,” he wheezes as Louis pulls off and leaves a wet kiss over the tattoo near his hip, “wow, incredible, Lou,”

It’s the first time he’s addressed him by something other than ‘Louis’ and he looks almost as out of breath, his glossy-eyed, flushed demeanour a reflection of Louis’ own. “What,” he croaks, eyes smiling up at him, “you never had anyone do that to you? Ever?” Harry blinks and opens his mouth, but Louis tangles his freed up hand with his. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know. You’re here and that’s what matters.”

He nods, thumbing thoughtfully at Louis’ cheek. “Again?”

“Oh you’re greedy!” he exclaims with no small amount of glee, yanking his arm. Harry twists to land on his back on the chaise, Louis wasting no time in removing his crumpled trousers then crawling onto all fours above him. “Hi,” he says, separating carefully coiffed curls with his fingers, “Got you right where I want you.”

He leans in and feels Harry cup his head, causing shivers that shoot to his toes and a spike of arousal to render him incapable of anything but kissing for several endless minutes. When he’s mindlessly rocking their hips together and his hands have moved to roam Harry’s torso, Louis pushes his fingertips onto his plush, inviting mouth.

“Wait,” he pants into Harry’s neck, “I thought you said you wanted it again? I’ll make it worth your while. Get myself ready for you to have your way with me.”

He feels Harry swallow against where his mouth rests and thinks about leaving a lovebite before Harry lifts his hips, a sign of agreeable desire. He’s a hardened line pressed to Louis’ belly and he wants it however he’s willing to give it, which he has his answer when Harry plays determinedly with the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Shuffling away with a smirk, Louis quickly drops them to end the trail of clothes started poolside before settling between Harry’s legs where, even with thighs spread, there’s plenty of room. He gets comfortable on his stomach, the fabric soft beneath his naked body, and regards Harry from under his fringe.

“Don’t come.” he says, a warning glint in his eye.

Louis knows it’s hard not to as he licks at the obscenely pink head with wicked little flicks of his tongue, a quick tease before he goes to town, sucking at Harry fast and wet. He moans around him, a wrecked whisper of his former voice, as Harry’s abs clench rhythmically against the open palm Louis rests there and feels his chin dampen as he forgets a lot of finesse in favour of wanting to show him a good time. When he dares to look up, Harry’s still blinking like he’s in a syrupy daze and his own hand twitches buried in Louis’ hair. Realising he can stick to not wanting Harry to come yet or say to hell with it, Louis bobs down a few more enthusiastic times then wrenches his mouth away and grips him tight, making him gasp.

“Sorry, I know,” he soothes, risking a couple of slow pulls with his fist to placate. “But can you hand me that?”

He nods to the lube sitting on the small wooden carved table next to the chaise, his insides swooping at the thought that Harry is ready for him and still aching to come. Harry turns his cheek to look at it then to Louis, seemingly clueless. Going with the smug theory that he’s successfully made him unable to think properly, Louis rolls his eyes with a fond tilt to his smile and straddles him to make it easy to get the lube. When he goes to move off him, Harry’s hands come up to hold his waist, big and strong, and his lips pucker over his nipple. Louis’ hips jerk, the lube slipping from his grasp in surprise, as he ducks his head to chase Harry’s eager mouth. He’s at once aware that he’s sat on Harry’s bare lap and reminded of what comes next when Harry insistently palms at the round of his arse amidst their drawn-out, thorough kissing.

He leans over the edge of the chaise where the lube has fallen to the tiles and stretches to get it, pushing his knees against Harry to keep his balance, but fails on his first attempt as lips press playfully to his ribs and the tops of his shoulders. Louis swats at him half-heartedly, laughing and trying to wriggle away from the light, sweet kisses and the feel of Harry’s hands all over his body, and snatches at the bottle with one more herculean effort. When he straightens up, Harry has settled back down in place to stare up at him, right into Louis’ eyes - his soul - as if he’s in complete awe of everything he is and a fresh wave of want sparks between them. Pouring lube into his palm, Louis rolls his hips back subtly as he wets a couple of Harry’s fingers with soft, slow strokes and watches how his mouth slackens beautifully. He always lives for that split second when his partners realise that he’s done with teasing.

Kneeling up, he guides Harry’s hand round and, as he seems a little overwhelmed already, takes him wordlessly through what to do. After he’s grinding onto two of Harry’s fingers, he finally lets go of Harry’s wrist to pitch forward. “Kiss me,” he whispers, nudging his nose next to Harry’s until he complies with gentle ease. Louis holds himself up by one hand and uses the other to quickly palm himself before he reaches behind to join Harry’s and squeezes in a third of his own, his spine a glorious curve as his front strains towards Harry’s broad chest and they stretch him open together.

There’s a flash of a frown on Harry’s face when Louis deems himself ready and climbs off to settle beside him on the chaise. His legs have started to feel tingly and jelly-like from the press of Harry’s slowly moving fingers, their reactions mirrored as Harry watched him start to unravel with eyes brightly focused and kiss-swollen lips. His eyebrows rise a little into his tousled hairline when Louis pulls him over to blanket his body and smudges a kiss into his cheek as he slides inside inch by achingly wonderful inch. It seems that if he thought Louis’ mouth on him was the best experience he’d ever had then he hadn’t counted on what being this intimate would be like. He hears Harry breathe out raggedly near his ear and cups his face to look at him as he takes stock of the moment himself, Harry a thick, hard presence that he’ll need him to move soon. He makes a vague questioning noise as butterflies rage in his tummy and nods with their foreheads touching when Harry blinks slowly. It’s uncertain but sweetly so and something in Louis tells him that Harry will know what’s right without even being told so he grips onto him tighter, lifting his legs to cross his ankles and pushes his heels into Harry’s back to spur him on to begin the careful, rocking thrusts.

It doesn’t take long for Louis to trust him - a little voice says somehow he has from the moment they met – and all that’s left is to cling on and enjoy, shuddering as Harry keeps a steady pace and sticks close by, Louis’ trembling hands fixed to his back and eyelashes casting wild, fluttering shadows on his cheekbones from the touch of Harry’s warm, soft lips to his throat.

“Oh,” he gasps, as his body goes suddenly taut in surprise before he digs his fingers harder into Harry’s shoulder blades, letting him know he’s doing good. “Oh my god.” He starts to shiver through the light sheen of sweat on his skin as Harry pauses then seemingly screws in deeper to encourage more of those breathy noises out of him, his full length felt inside Louis from the tips of his messy hair to his curling toes and the feeling builds from a tingle to a burst of sensation. “Yeah, keep – _oh_! I’m coming, come with me, come with me – ”

A rumble of hurried agreement comes from Harry; their entwined bodies creating almost the right friction Louis needs until a sure palm closes around him to tug him along. Secluded in this room where the sounds of their lovemaking would be distant at best if anyone was even home, Louis lets one overwhelmed cry out loud with eyes squeezed shut as he pulls hard on the nearest errant curl of Harry’s hair and smears sticky-wet between them. The shock of being seized like that in their embrace and the look of pure bliss on Louis’ face has Harry following quickly, tumbling and tumbling as Louis lays pliant through the shivery aftershocks and stares at how Harry breaks apart too, wanting nothing more to be held warm and secure in his arms.

He gets his wish without having to say a word and whilst he is rather boneless on top of him, Louis wouldn’t have him be anywhere else, not just yet. With his hip and thigh on the chaise after he’s slowly withdrawn, Harry’s skin is still warm like a cosy fire against Louis’ as the rest of his limbs lay comfortably over him like a blanket and Louis can’t resist putting his lips tenderly to a lightly muscled shoulder.

“That was amazing.” he smiles drowsily, flushed with pleasure before his eyes turn shy. “What about, uh, you? How was it?”

Harry’s face is relaxed in serious honesty. “Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to be so polite,” he grins briefly, eyes crinkling happily, “but you’re welcome. Most glowing review ever really.” In the midst of tracing the dip of his collarbone with a light fingertip, he stops to poke into the wing of a bird as Harry’s focus starts to strangely drift away. “Hey, stay with me.”

“I am. I’m here.” he insists quietly after the shortest pause, sliding his hand round to cover the sweaty nape of Louis’ neck, his thumb stroking behind his ear. “I’m here.”

Despite wanting to know everything that’s still a thrilling mystery all at once, Louis lets it go. As long as he gets snacks.

He sends Harry off with a lewd comment about renewing their energy and lounges like a very satisfied prince for 0.2 seconds before he wonders whether Harry even knows where the kitchen is and where to find anything when he gets there. At least Louis had made sure that he looked sort of decent, staring giddily with only a cashmere throw blanket previously hanging from the arm of the chaise to casually cover his own modesty as Harry pulled on his trousers without underwear and left his shirt untucked and half buttoned up. He’d kissed Louis slow and gentle on both cheeks, making him want to drag him under again. Now he’s had enough of waiting and goes to find him.

He walks down the corridors with a spring in his step, wearing the look of someone that tells everyone else he just got laid and puts his hands to the kitchen door to enter but doesn’t quite make it inside. It’s open enough already to give him a view of Harry and to hear the voice of someone else. Barefoot and dressed in boxer briefs with his t-shirt on inside out, Louis leans on the jamb to listen.

“ – I don’t want you seeing my son.” his dad says.

Louis raises his eyebrows at the statement, confused as to why he sounds so sure and stern.

“I have to keep my eyes open; otherwise I won’t see where I’m going.” Harry replies lightly.

“Don’t be a bloody smartarse with me!” he hisses, obviously not finding any of it funny as Louis covers his mouth to not give his hiding place away over something as silly as laughter. “I don’t want you having a relationship with him. I forbid it. End of discussion.”

Harry steps away from the island at that and Louis suddenly isn’t so amused, pressing his face closer to track him with one eye. He had been thinking about joining them because if they were going to talk about him then he deserved to be a part of it too and yet it felt tense enough, at least from his dad’s side, which made him want to hold back and choose his moment carefully.

“With all due respect, I think Louis’ old enough to choose who he wants to be with. I’m in love with him – ”

“ – No – ” his dad shakes his head, trying raise his voice as Harry halts in front of him.

“ – And he’s in love with me.”

“He loves you? Ha!” he crows mirthlessly. His face falls quickly into a sneer as he gets right in Harry’s face, jabbing a finger close to his chest. “You were never supposed to see him again after that day. Does he know who you really are, eh? Have you told him that? I should sack you on the spot!”

“Go ahead,” he replies, indifferent. “None of that matters.”

Louis sucks in a shocked breath. He feels dizzy; completely bewildered as to where Harry’s innate politeness has escaped to and why his dad is being quite so prickly and protective over what happens in his love life. Considering they’ve been so chummy in such a short space of time, Louis had thought that his dad might be happy for them. What the mother of his son had always told him to fill his dreams was actually coming true. He and Andrew weren’t meant to be because the one for him was standing in their kitchen now almost like he owned it, like he could easily belong. It wasn’t much of a leap when, since his arrival, all his dad had done is invite him to share everything – the food in his house, the work at his firm and precious time with his family, which might explain why Harry hasn’t shrunk away at all, not fearing the snap of remarkable restraint like Louis is. If anything, he seems confident that he’ll keep the upper hand and live to tell the tale. Louis has no doubt that he will make a magnificent barrister.

“May I take this opportunity,” he says in a voice so low that Louis has to strain to pick out the words, “to remind you of our...arrangement.”

“Fuck the arrangement!” he spits crossly, yanking Harry in with fistfuls of his shirt.

Harry shows no signs of reaction, not from the back at least. “Careful, Mark. You don’t want to cross any lines.”

“You listen here, you little – ” he starts through clenched teeth before a pause. He continues, softer. “All I care about is my children’s happiness and I don’t like how you’re weaving your spell.”

“I am weaving no spell. This is happening and there’s nothing you can do or say to stop it. There’s no way back and that’s final.” As if to prove his point, said in the same slow drawl he always uses, Harry brushes invisible lint off the other man’s suit shoulders and Louis watches with wide eyes as the grasp on his shirt drops. A quiet look of defeat is written all over his dad’s face when Harry spins on his heel, smile as innocent as newborn kittens. “I hope you have a lovely afternoon.”

Louis knows he has seconds to make sure he’s not caught spying and runs into the nearest bathroom, hoping Harry doesn’t hear the slap of his feet as he exits the kitchen close behind. Safe in an actual room, Louis peers through the crack he left in this door to see Harry leave without any food – damn it – and disappear back to the pool.

Louis blows out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and shuts the door by leaning on it in relief. He’s excited to know that Harry loves him and he’s fairly certain he’s fallen too, but he’s also breathless that Harry stood up like that to a rather powerful man. It seemed like nothing and that nobody fazes him, except maybe when he looks at Louis sometimes like he can’t believe he’s real, as if he’s experiencing certain emotions for the very first time. It covers all the gaps he is yet to fill about Harry and convinces him that they needn’t rush. They can learn that stuff later. Surely what’s most important is how appreciated Harry makes him feel.

If his dad can’t at least see that then it’s definitely his problem.

 

\--

 

With Australia looming ever closer, suddenly it’s the morning of Lottie’s birthday. Both of Louis’ parents agreed to make a little more fuss than usual because of its milestone status, much to his sister’s delight. His dad offered to book the party into one of his favourite hotels to give Louis a break from “the chaos of teenage girls”, even though he wouldn’t have minded holding it at his place. It’s not as if he’s never had a wild night or two himself and he’s obviously invited to it anyway, but if there’s one thing he shares with his dad, its obstinacy and Louis makes his way over his dad’s house to come face-to-face with celebration mania.

Tens of people in chefs’ whites and waiting staff uniforms rush back and forth from hallway to hallway, shouting instructions whilst struggling to juggle food and the finest cookware as elegantly wrapped gifts sit piled at the foot of the staircase, just asking to be tripped over. The house is filled with the distant clang of pots and pans, the hiss of steam and purr of the oven that no one really knows how to use except hired staff or probably Louis’ own mum. He’d actually woken up at his house with a note from Jay pinned onto the fridge with the Statue of Liberty magnet he brought back from New York, letting him know that she’d taken a taxi here with his three younger sisters whilst Lottie went off to be pampered with her friends that had made it down from their home for the occasion. She’d also told him to get as much sleep as possible. Of course, that meant he threw on sniff-tested grey sweatpants, the nearest band t-shirt and a soft green hoodie that helplessly reminded him of the colour of Harry’s hypnotising eyes to hightail it to his dad’s to get stuck in. Okay and to see Harry again. It’s perhaps a little weird that he doesn’t own a mobile phone, so Louis has literally not seen him since the last time they were together, but he can’t deny that the thrill of when they meet is more potent because of it. Its old fashioned almost, more romantic than any filthy text messages or phone sex could ever be.

He’s so swept away by the giddiest of feelings that he only narrowly misses colliding with a clipboard-holding woman barking orders into a headset, whirling towards the sound of his dad’s voice.

“Louis, lad! Excellent! An extra pair of hands.”

He looks around, slightly confused, as he grabs his elbow. “Um, what do you need me for? Seems like you’ve got a whole army on site this morning.”

“Oh I know. I just want everything to be perfect for tonight. Lottie is not to worry about a single thing.” Louis can’t help his incredulous expression until the surprise wears off quickly and he grins, stopping their walk down the echoing hallway to put his hand on his shoulder.

“Dad, relax. As long as she has her mates and her family don’t embarrass her, I’m sure she’ll love it.” He waits for the nod, reluctantly given, because sometimes he does talk some sense. “Okay, so unless you want me to look after the twins for a bit while you and Mum do...whatever’s left, where can I find Harry?”

His dad’s gaze snaps up to his face, but his eyes are soft. “Ah. Yes. Harry. I wanted to have a few words with you actually. Come on, we can pop in here.”

Louis feels his insides drop to his feet as he follows him into the small study that’s used as a library rather than the work he does in his office upstairs. His dad plucks two ties off a nearby dresser and turns towards the mirror hanging over the unlit fireplace as Louis feels like a lemon standing in the middle of the room. However, with a couple of steps backwards, his hand finds the solid oak of the desk and he leans onto it, trying for casual but probably looking awkward. His dad doesn’t seem to notice, too busy swapping the ties in front of his neck.

“I’m not sure Harry’s going to be around for much longer.” he finally says to his reflection.

Louis raises his eyebrows. It’s the first he’s heard of _Harry_ going away from him. “Where’s he going?”  


“I...” His dad hesitates. “I can’t say.”

“This man never leaves your side, has had your ear since the day everyone found out you knew each other, and you can’t tell me anything? As your son asking you a question? Not even where he’s off to?”

“Now look here,” he snaps irritably, “I know me and your mum weren’t particularly thrilled when you started a relationship with Andrew, but don’t you think it’s time you stopped running away, were adult about this and patched things up? He’s a good man, Lou.”

A lump forms instinctively in his throat at the mention of his name, emotions swirling from sadness to rage. Nobody heard the way Andrew spoke to him the afternoon by the pool and probably never will. It’s not that important anymore. Nobody except Harry. “Running – what?” he chokes out, “Me and Andrew are over. Finished forever. And, I hate to admit it, but before then it happened y’know. How Mum used to say that the person I want to be with should want it as much as I do, should be crazy with it, that if I left myself open then lightning could strike? Well, it has, Dad. I’m in love with Harry.”

“I don’t care if you love him!” he roars suddenly, banging his hand on the dresser and making Louis flinch in shock. After a tense moment of silence, their eyes line up through the mirror. He puts down the ties with a deflated sigh, turning around. “Believe me when I say this. I know he’s not right for you, son.”

His gaze is soft again, but his words are still harsh in Louis’ ears as his heartbeat bids for freedom from inside his chest and he feels like he could shake apart on the spot. He swallows hard, the lump staying present for entirely different reasons. He nods his head, stroking fingertips along his mouth as he stares down at his feet.

“Okay.” he whispers. “Okay.”

He walks out the door and doesn’t look back.

 

\--

 

Despite part of him wishing to wallow in the hurt, Louis makes it to the hotel hours later, hanging onto his previous dreamy mood because he knows he’ll see Harry. Whatever his dad’s change of heart, Louis knows he wouldn’t risk upsetting Lottie for anything by causing a commotion like refusing Harry entry when he’s had dinner with the whole family and been introduced to them as someone to trust.

Still, he’s a little surprised that when he walks in to the main room to see Harry and his dad stood in conversation on the opposite side. His body jerks naturally to go over and intervene before something tells him to look at the scene properly first. He grabs a champagne flute of Bucks fizz out of a passing girl’s hand (she looks far too young for it) and stares at the two men across the way. Whilst they aren’t in a secretive looking huddle anymore, the communication isn’t particularly frosty either, as Louis would’ve expected since hearing his father’s opinion that morning. If anything, Harry looks contrite, like he’s apologising for something.

Louis has to blink out of it to realise when Harry has finally noticed him and he knows he’s welcome to meet him in the middle, happy chatter and music all around them. He’s not sure he’ll ever tire of how well Harry wears a suit. He’s plumped for a classic – all black with a white shirt and skinny tie and he’s obviously tried to tone it down from full on dinner suit, but between him and Louis’ dad and it seems every other adult male here, Louis feels slightly underdressed in his rolled up dark wash jeans, t-shirt and blazer and smart brogues, even if it’s something he’d be likely to wear to a film premiere.

“You look so sexy tonight.” he smirks, leaning in to Harry’s ear with a hand rested against his collarbone. “Too sexy in a room full of screechy 16 year olds. But I still wish you could fuck me right here. I miss having you inside me so much.” The line of his body stiffens in reaction. Louis pulls away in surprise, searching his face for why. “What’s wrong? Am I coming on too strong? Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I – ” he stops abruptly as Harry grabs his hand from his chest to press a gentle, chaste kiss to his upturned palm. “Harry, what’s going on? Talk to me, please.”

The intense stare returns, but instead of making Louis want to shiver by recognising the hunger, Harry simply looks immeasurably sad. “I have to go.”

“But you’ve barely been here an hour! What’s the rush?”

He shakes his head. “No, baby. I’m leaving London. Tonight.”

Louis feels his stomach drop, his hand now clasped between both of Harry’s. His dad had told him as much, but a small part of him was maybe hoping that he’d said it to put him off pursuing a steady relationship with Harry, regardless of how he already felt. Then it hits him. They’ve never said anything close to love out loud. He’s pretty sure it’s in the way they act around each other that something deeply personal is there, but he still feels a need to put a name to what he feels.

Aware that they’re sort of blocking the area to later be used as a dancefloor, Louis looks for a suitable place for them to talk and pulls Harry to a corner that’s far, far away from his parents and siblings. He takes a deep breath in, the sound of his exhale trembling from his lips but his gaze unwavering in studying the pale beauty of Harry’s face.

“In that case,” he starts, voice breaking with nerves, “I guess you should know that I’ve fallen in love with a man I never expected to come into my life. I don’t know much about him at all, yeah, but it doesn’t change the way he makes me feel, like I’m the only person he sees in the room. Tonight he’s leaving and I don’t know why or for how long.”

He throws his arms around Harry’s neck in a tight hug, rising on tiptoes to keep the contact all along their bodies, and couldn’t care less that it might be a tad uncomfortable for Harry. Through the ache of unshed tears, he manages to dredge up a smile from somewhere as Harry tucks his face down onto his shoulder and squeezes his arms where they circle his slim waist. His voice is muffled when he speaks.

“This is so hard. I’m in love with the most beautiful, generous man and I don’t want to leave him. I really don’t.”

Louis pushes him back. “Then why are you? I know I have my own thing soon, but you could come with me. You can meet the boys, I’m sure they’d love you.” A watery grin crinkles his eyes as he thinks on that first meeting. “Y’know, It’s so strange because that morning in the café in Camden? I freaked out a bit, inside. Especially when I told you about my mum and what she always said to me, to forget my head and listen to my heart and eventually I’d find someone special. Don’t know when or how, but it’ll happen, and you finished my sentence like it’d been you talking all along. You said that lightning would strike. I’ve never had someone react like that before. You changed me, Harry.”

For several seconds, Harry seems to be looking for something Louis can’t decipher and he lets him take his time because he’s trying so hard to keep himself together. “I said that?”

“Yeah, there you were, at my favourite place. And you said that you lucked out that morning because I was funny and had a nice face. Well, I think you’re all those things and more.”

“At the café? In Camden? Lou...” His tilts his head on a slow blink, bringing a hand up to cup Louis’ cheek as he whispers, “May I kiss you?”

He nods his assent and Harry’s lips are so gentle, pressing unhurriedly lest they break some quiet, loving spell and yet Louis’ head is spinning and his knees feel like they're going to buckle. He’s full of questions he can’t ignore the longer Harry looks at him like he’s something curiously fascinating, but instead of backing away, Louis clings onto his presence for as long as he’s allowed.

Harry is leaving. He’s still almost unknown. Louis’ listened to his heart and fallen for him anyway.

He can’t quite catch his breath when Harry’s hand slides against the nape of his neck, holding him close. “That felt different. Why? Harry, please. Why won’t you tell me anything about you?”

“I think you know.” he says into his ear. “Tell me what you see. Don’t be afraid, it’s okay.”

Louis does as he’s told, lulled by the deep timbre of his voice, and takes his time, searching for clues. Harry’s face is so still; his green eyes passive and cold, like he’s not there anymore. He doesn’t know about that morning. ‘Nice face’ isn’t a flirty joke. He can’t tell him the truth about who he is. He’s someplace else, with someone else.

He _is_ someone else.

The stark realisation sends a chill down Louis’ spine, stealing his breath. He feels out the left side of Harry’s chest without looking, the thud of his heartbeat pulsing through his fingertips. He’s so proper and yet distractingly seductive with an added air of strange naivety over the smallest details of life that up until two seconds ago Louis found absolutely charming. Now it’s confusing and too much to handle.

“You’re – you’re – ” Overwhelmed, he can’t make the words – _you’re someone else, you’re not Harry_ – come out and a fresh wave of tears spring to his eyes, sparkling blue. Harry’s expression intensifies again; gaze as sharp as needles and a window to what’s behind, making Louis hunch his shoulders around his ears. “– you’re...Harry.”

“Yes.” he whispers, dejection and heartache in his eyes because Louis can't say it. He won't. “I’m Harry. And trust me; you will always have what happened that morning in Camden.” The mere mention of it since what he knows has Louis yanking Harry into him by his lapels, afraid to let go through the stab of longing that makes his knees even weaker than before.

“Tell me that you love me now.” he breathes, desperate to hear it.

“I love you now. I love you forever. Lou?” Lips brush his forehead where they’re rested as he nods to Harry’s murmur. “Thank you for opening your heart.”

And then he leaves him standing, swaying on his feet, as his tears begin to fall.

 

\--

 

After leaving the conversation with his dad in his study that morning, Louis had gone to check on his mum and his sisters to see if they really did need any help. Jay had taken one look at the misery carved into his face and pulled him into a hug as he blurted the whole tale out from the first meeting to realising his feelings for Harry ran deep. He didn’t want to think about his mum and dad fighting when things had settled quite well, so he’d neglected to mention the conversation he’d had that got him upset in the first place and left them all to it when his mum had reassured him that everything was under control.

“I can’t pretend I’m not relieved.” his dad is saying now as Louis stands with them both, moping in the middle of his sister’s birthday party. He’d told them that Harry had needed to leave London for good, plain and simple, because the truth was still a scary, heart-wrenching mess. “You’ve just come out of a relationship and Harry is not who you should be leaning on. I only want what’s best for you. Will you be alright?”

At least his dad’s intuition was right about that.

Louis’ body twitches in a sort of nod and shrug. “Yeah...I’ll be off on tour again soon. It’ll stop me from, like, thinking about it. And I know.” He finally looks him in the eye, sees genuine worry that makes his heart feel a bit lighter. “I know you love me and I’m sorry if I’ve been such a shit since you moved here. You’re the best dad anyone could ask for.”

He’s halfway to drawing him in for a hug when his dad’s face twists in a grimace and the reminder of his heart attack is like a bucket of ice dropped down the back of Louis’ shirt, but his concern is quickly flapped away and he squeezes his eyes shut to stop himself getting more emotional as arms tighten around his shoulders. His mum is hovering right there and Louis chokes on a giggle as she pushes a strand of his fringe away for him, the hug ending so he can fix it himself.

His dad clears his throat, picking up his drink from the table behind them. “Okay, I think it’s time. Behave yourself while I’m gone.”

Louis rolls his eyes and watches him stride away to take Lottie’s hand and pull her in front of everyone to make a start on his speech. Jay suddenly grabs Louis’ face between her hands and smacks a big kiss onto his cheek, wiping at the lipstick mark as his dad quiets the room.

“Good evening and welcome, everyone.” he smiles as Lottie shrinks into his side, embarrassed at being the centre of attention. Nothing like her big brother. “I’d just like to thank family and friends of all ages for being here to celebrate my little girl turning another year older.” He looks at his daughter, squeezing their clasped hands. “Charlotte, my Lottie, you grow more beautiful every day as I watch you turn into a lovely young lady anyone would be proud to know. And I am. I’m proud of all of my children and whatever they choose to be and it’s fantastic that we get to tip our hat to them on these wonderful occasions.

Whilst tonight is rightfully about my eldest daughter, I would also like to take this opportunity to wish my son well as he returns to that thing he calls a job with some group named One Something.” A collective titter ripples around the room as his eyes find Louis’ and Lottie groans a pitiful, drawn out “Dad!” for his attempt at humour. “Louis, look after yourself. Mum, your sisters and I hope you and the lads have a great tour in Australia.” His face is downright content, so instead of hamming it up, Louis takes his hand from his pocket and gives a small wave of recognition, feeling warm from head to toe with love. They’ve had a moment just like they used to, boys against the world or at least a house full of women, and Louis’ so caught up in happiness that he misses a whole chunk of his father’s speech until he sees his glass is in the air.

“Time flies when you’re having fun, love,” he says, looking a bit wobbly. Louis frowns, even as he dismisses it as a his sister being _sixteen_ years old thing. “So I’ll end this here and you can get back to your friends, which I know you’re desperate to do.” There’s a fainter sound of mirth (Louis had forgotten how skilful he was at this, eloquence essential for his career) “I ask you to join me in wishing one of my babies a happy birthday and all of them well for the rest of the year. To Lottie.”

Once the toast is over, a few things happen fast. His dad makes it around to give everybody a squeeze that even includes his mum, Lottie gets to cut the spectacular tiered cake that’s been invitingly on display in the room and Louis manages to intercept her relieved journey back to her giggling friends to gather her into a lengthy hug. The more she protests, complaining of suffocation, the wider he smiles into her blonde hair and peppers her cheeks with kisses.

“I’ll give you the bumps later,” he wiggles his fingers in her face, trying for menacing. The moving eyebrows might lessen the effect. “You won’t know when I’ll strike, so watch out!”

As he secretly predicted, she waves him off like she thinks he’s ridiculous and increasingly unworthy of her cool time. It’s possible he’ll have to move his tricks onto Fizzy.

Lastly, his eyes do a double take by the door as some of the boring lightweight adults start leaving and a mop of curly hair pops back into the room. He shifts his gaze silently onto his dad, watching as he spots Harry too and begins to walk towards him. With all the affectionate protection from his dad tonight (and possibly since forever, if he’s honest with himself), Louis has the awful thought that he’s about to do something drastic and out of character like punch Harry in the face for breaking his son’s heart and that’s what gets him moving, happy to see his mum distracted by his cousins.

However, he’s still confused when their exchange seems perfectly civil and Harry leaves _again_ , but with his dad in tow. He reasons that maybe they’re taking it outside and follows them just to check that nothing gets out of hand. Louis doesn’t really want his dad to wallop Harry one, except maybe the universe thinks differently because he forgot that they were in a function room at a posh hotel and there’s people everywhere. Finally stumbling into the chilly night air, his dad and Harry are ahead of him, but his call out to them dies on his tongue as they share a look so much like the ones they’ve shared since Louis found out that they knew each other, say a few words he’s too far away to hear and then slowly disappear around the corner.

Louis’ body makes an aborted move to run after them, his stunned heart disconcertingly out of time and he thinks he might be sick from the understanding of who – what – ‘Harry’ is and why because, after he’s blinked from staring, there’s only one person stepping down from the pavement across the street and it isn’t his father. Vision blurring, Louis presses his lips together as he numbly waits for him to arrive. He could see his smile from several paces back and he feels like he’s been turned upside down and shook when he clumsily trips over the kerb, righting himself just before he knocks face first into Louis or the concrete under their feet.

“You,” he exhales, astonished by this man who has appeared in front of him as if by magic and that Louis even remembers how to speak English with his mind cartwheeling all over the place. “It’s really you. Harry?”

If it’s possible, his grin becomes even bigger. “Hi! What’s this? You look incredible, Lou. Sorry, can I call you that? Can I say that? Because you really do. Wow. I thought I’d never get to see you again after that morning.”

It hits him that he’s not dreaming. _Harry is here_ and he’s staring at Louis like he can’t believe he’s real as he mentions their first meeting as if he’s not had a single thought about anything else. Louis’ faint with puzzlement and a heavy sense of grief and he so wants to ask him where he went and how, but Harry’s pushing a hand through his curls and peering at the hotel in a way that says he’s never seen it before in his life, so Louis decides to let it rest and what comes out of his mouth in a whisper is:

“Camden.”

“Mmhm,” Harry nods, dimples out in force, “That’s right, that little place in Camden. You’re not easy to forget y’know. I guess lightning really did strike. Hey,” he says, his happy expression dimming warily when Louis can’t stop his lip from wobbling. It’s so much to take in. “Are you alright?”

He shrugs, helpless to explain what he feels right now. “Yeah, I think. It’s - this is crazy. We barely know each other. I mean, my family, they’re...” The sentence hangs as sensation crashes into him again, overwhelming until he covers his face in his hands. “I just wish, y’know. That my dad was here. I think he would’ve liked you.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Come here,” he implores in a deep, gentle voice and pulls him over to some quieter, darker space for an hugely warm hug as Louis lets a sob slip past his fingers. “I’m sure I would’ve liked him too.”

It feels like an eternity that he stands there in Harry’s arms and life goes on around them, logic telling them that this should feel mighty awkward, but it doesn’t. Okay, the hole inside his chest is trying to swallow Louis whole and yet he feels momentarily safe where he is so he stays. He risks everything one last time to forget his head and truly listen to his heart.

“What if the lightning thing is a load of crap?” he asks muffled into the place where Harry’s collarbone is beneath his white shirt, actually hoping that this time he’ll be allowed to fall in love in peace.

Harry grips him by his biceps to get a good look at his face, even if the teary visage is not one Louis wants him to have as a second memory. He smiles – Louis was correct; he’s definitely a smiler – when their eyes hesitantly meet. In the streaks of moonlight and streetlamp, he’s more gorgeous than ever before. “Only one way to find out.”

Harry drops a kiss to his Louis’ cheek and takes hold of his hand, tangling their fingers together.

Boys against the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Other titles I thought of going for was the English translation of the Italian play the film is based on which is "Death Takes A Holiday", but that would've pretty much given everything away! Please restore my sanity after this mess by giving me kudos and comments below, thank you my peaches. <3
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr for a chat if you like at [theprincessed](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com)! :)


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